Season Unending
by Hugh Wottmeight
Summary: Yazir is a powerful Orc, he's also the Dragonborn, he's sick of the Stormcloaks and Imperials squabbling for power like children. That's why he's decided to take matters into his own, blackish, orcish hands.


_**A/N: I'll start with providing a somewhat brief description of my dragonborn here. Please note that I created this character a little bit after Skyrim was released, so whilst now it would seem the monikers I have given him were taken from other obvious sources, this is not the case.**_

 _ **Yazir, aka the White Orc/Wolf, aka Dragonborn. He is known as the White Orc/Wolf for the white war-paint that adorns his blackish skin, he has long black hair and a massive beard, going down to his chest. Yazir favors a set of Superior Steel Plate armor, coupled with two Dwarven War Axes, Hopes and Dreams, and Anguish and Agony. Both war-axes are enhancted with flame damage, 10 points. He wears a wedding band on his right hand, signifying his marriage to Lydia, and an amulet of Talos.**_

 _ **This is my rendition of 'Season Unending', it was fun to sit there and watch Ulfric and Tullius tee off verbally each other...for about five minutes. It's extremely hard to find a genuine RP reason for an Orsimer to care about the Civil War, so I've decided to create this, where my Dragonborn has his own agenda, I've also removed the other Jarls/right-hand characters for this sequence, this is intended as a one-shot/maybe a two-shot, if I decide to write a second chapter, I'll incorporate those characters.**_

One supposedly peaceful Lordas approached Skyrim, the sun and inclement weather all out in force that day, it was most in force on the Throat of the World, or High Hrothgar, as it is known offically. High Hrothgar was a very peaceful place, it was a place where one could meditate for hours on end. We should probably pretend that it's like that every day, and on purpose, rather than because if it's inhabitants spoke at all, it would bring the old stone monastery crumbling down the mountain.

Today, however, was not a peaceful day. After long days of collaberation with Delphine and Esbern, Yazir finally had a plan in place, ask Jarl Balgruff the Greater to help him capture a dragon. But, as is usual in the world of Tamriel, everyone else comes first. Apparently.

The Civil War in Skyrim had been reaching a deadly peak, with both sides finally ready to quit beating around the bush and begin fighting, this however didn't sit well with Balgruuf, wishing to stay out of the conflict for as long as possible, he had requested the Dragonborn's help in negotating a temporary truce.

Yazir, of course, had other plans.

 _"Malacath, save me. If these idiots debate any longer, I just might lose it."_ Yazir thought.

It had been over 2 hours into the meeting and they had made litte progress, Yazir thought it would help speeden things along if the Thalmor representative was removed from the negotiations, but it just antagonized the Empire, both sides sitting at a stone table, spitting venom and insults, slowly, but surely, wearing down the Orsimer's patience.

"You can't possibly expect us to give up Markarth without decent compenstation! Dawnstar is no where near acceptable." Tullius said, not without force.

"It's Markarth or no deal." Ulfric stated.

"Can the Dragonborn perhaps interject on the matter?" Arngeir asked, noticing how irritated the Orc's body language was, thankfully his emotions were hidden by his helmet.

Yazir was still for a moment but then straighted himself and stood up, removing his Steel Plate helmet and setting it on the stone table, it makes a loud clang sound that echos around the hall. The Orc stood stall, massive and intimidating, but also giving off an aura of intelligence.

"It has become clear to me, that this is getting nowhere of usefulness. I had hope both sides could at least come to a agreement on their own without my interjection. I can see that is not the case, allow me to shed some light on the situation." He stated, with a deep baritone that is his voice.

Yazir reached into a small satchel on his side, meant for carrying potions and important notes.

"I found this document whilst doing a rescue incursion into the Thalmor embassy. You, Jarl Ulfric," He raised a gauntleted finger, pointing it directly at the Nord "you are fighting a proxy war for the Thalmor, one you are meant to win."

He placed the note onto the table, Ulfric quickly reached over and grabbed it, reading it's contents and anger quickly contorting the Nord's features. But still, Yazir continued speaking

"The Thalmor wish to make quick and easy work of Skyrim, as the same with it did with Hammerfell and Elswyer. If we continue this fighting, we are puppets for those damned elves."

Tullius had no reaction on his face to the note, but his body language relaxed and he spoke.

"What are the terms you propose, then?" He said with finailty.

"Yes, what are your terms?" Ulfric asked. Both of the leaders were turned to face the Orc.

"The Stormcloaks are to be given control of Skyrim, but however, a treaty shall be finalized at once that Skyrim is honorbound to aid the Empire in whatever time of need it comes upon, and that Skyrim must also follow the terms of the White-Gold Concordant, the enforcement of certain terms, I leave to you.

The Imperials shall be allowed to station and garrison troops in certain locations. Now, for the Moot. We all know Jarl Ulfric will never be made High King due to his murder of Torygg, and as punishment for murder of the High King, Ulfric will barred from ever contending for the positon. Is that understood?" Yazir stopped.

Ulfric's features darkend, but after a moment, Ulfric nodded.

"I shall honor this, but who will be named High King?"

"That will be for the Moot to decide, but, I shall put myself forth as a candidate." Yazir said.

"WHAT?" Both leaders shouted.

"A Orc in control of Skyrim? The Moot will never go for that." Ulfric stated

"For once, I agree with you, why give Stormcloaks control, only for you to become King yourself?" Tullius asked

"I understand your greievances, but have I not proved that I am a strong capable warrior, I have the might of 4 organizations at my beck and call, mages, warriors, theives and murderers, the best of the best. All at my command. The company I provide will unite and give Skyrim what she really needs. A Dragonborn, whose honourbound by the gods to help and provide for those in need. " He stated.

One could say Yazir was grabbing for power, and in a way, he was. He certaintly wouldn't disagree with the notion, but he felt it was necesscary for Skyrim to finally heal from old wounds, and with Yazir at the reigns, Skyrim could do ANYTHING.


End file.
